


and everything that i do is out of lovin' you

by raikkonen (armario)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Out, First Time, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, the sappiest thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 10:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armario/pseuds/raikkonen
Summary: Racing will always be his first love, but Lando is his second, and he doesn't want to imagine a life where he can't have both.





	and everything that i do is out of lovin' you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gotvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotvodka/gifts), [singlemalter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/gifts).

Carlos is imagining the severity of the bollocking he and Lando are going to get tomorrow. It would be tonight, but they both managed to escape. At least they have a few hours to prepare their defenses. 

_[To: Super Max]_

_HELP ME !!!!_

"They'll be looking for us in our hotel room," Carlos remarks.

"Yeah... I texted Max. We can go to his room."

Lando sounds so disheartened. It's awful. 

_[From: Super Max]_

_what's wrong?_

_[To: Super Max]_

_Can we come to ur room? i will explain when we get there_

_[From: Super Max]_

_Yeah but whose we?_

_[To: Super Max]_

_Me and carlos_

They duck into the hotel Red Bull is using, just down the road from their own, checking to see if there are any McLaren personnel prowling around. It would just be their luck if someone spotted them and reported their location to Zak, who would definitely not be happy with what had just transpired in the interview.

Lando already knows which room Max is in because he went over the night before to see Max's temporary and portable gaming setup. Now he's going to try and salvage his career.

"Are you all right?" Carlos asks in a low voice when they're in the elevator.

Lando was running on adrenaline up until that point, but now, he kind of crumbles. "No," he replies shortly. He feels Carlos' hand squeeze comfortingly at the back of his neck. He flinches, and doesn't want to read the hurt on Carlos' face. He's just too ashamed to let anyone touch him right now.

Max is waiting with the door open. "Oh," he says when he sees the expression on Lando's face like he's barely keeping it together, and Carlos looking quite pale beside him.

"Guys, what's happened?"

Lando walks past him and sits on the sofa, puts his head in his hands. 

Max looks at Carlos questioningly. 

"Lando, can I tell him...?" the Spaniard queries.

"Do whatever you want," Lando answers tearfully. He gets up off the sofa, storms off to the bedroom and slams the door shut.

"This is serious," Max notes grimly.

Carlos follows him to sit down at the table. "We were doing an interview," he begins. "With Sky Sports. And the interviewer asks about what kind of girl I am looking for."

He pauses. Max leans forward.

"Well, I don't know. I thought it would be funny to say, _who says I am looking for a girl?"_

Max groans. "I know where this is going."

"You do?!"

"Yeah, I really think so."

"Go on then, tell me."

"No, mate, just carry on."

Carlos huffs. "I just make a joke of it, this guy is like, are you not looking for a girl then? Do you have a girlfriend? And I say, no. And let it sink in. You know, Max, I'm not straight, I forgot for a second this is a big deal."

"You _forgot."_

"I don't know. Me and Lando are always flirting in interviews and stuff. I was just playing it up I guess. _You_ know what I'm talking about," he says, raising his eyebrows.

Max flushes. 

"I probably could have played it off as a joke, except, then this guy moves on to Lando, and he says, 'What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?' Lando says, no. He should have just said yes. It would have been less hassle."

"Then what?"

"Then this stupid interviewer says 'boyfriend?' And Lando started coughing! Really, coughing!"

Max snorts despite himself. It shouldn't be funny but he can imagine it so well.

"The guy goes, 'should I take that as a yes?' And at this point he has stopped coughing and he's just staring like an idiot. I don't know what was going on in his head. So I said-"

"Here we go."

"Shut up. So I said- 'yes, it's me, we are in love'."

Max's forehead hits the table with considerable force. 

"Hey, now don't be like that. I was trying to take the attention away from Lando."

Max lifts his head off the table. "By saying you're in love with him?"

_"Chist,"_ Carlos shushes him, pointing to the bedroom door. "It comes across better in the interview. Just some silly fun. But Lando was really upset. He told me he is sick of people questioning his sexuality. He gets some mean comments about it I think."

Max sits back, folding his arms. "Well, it could have been worse, I suppose. Probably it's best you pretend it was a joke, just playing up the bromance."

Carlos sighs.

"Or you can both retire as F1 drivers, and actually date each other," Max suggests a little harshly.

"Why would I have to retire just for loving another man?" Carlos mutters derisively. 

"Another _driver."_

"He's my team mate."

"Not forever," Max shrugs. "Don't delude yourself. You know what the fans are like. You would be torn to shreds."

Carlos narrows his eyes. He thinks about Lando crying in the next room over because he's so scared of what will happen to his career if people find out he likes guys. He thinks about all the gay kids terrified of the future, having no one to look up to and show them they can make it.

"It's going to happen to someone," he says stubbornly.

Max sets his jaw. "It doesn't have to be you."

"It's cowardly!" Carlos explodes, slamming his hands on the table. "I know I can drive. I know I can race. Who cares if I like dick as well? Who gives a shit?!"

Max doesn't answer. 

The chair scrapes loudly over the floor as Carlos gets up to check on Lando.

"I'm going out," Max calls tiredly. "Whatever you end up doing, finish up by the time I get back, please."

Carlos pushes open the door gently. Lando is curled up under the covers, facing away from the door.

"I don't know why I acted like that," he mumbles angrily into the pillow. "I look so stupid."

"No, no," Carlos shushes him. He climbs into bed beside him and gets close, wrapping his arms around Lando's waist, rubbing soothingly at his stomach. "You were just caught off guard."

"Yeah and now everyone knows I'm gay," he despairs, curling further in on himself. 

Carlos shuffles closer. "No. They don't know that. You were just... flailing around. It's all espe- speculation, even after that. No one has to know if you don't want them to."

Lando sighs. He turns round to face Carlos, but he doesn't pull out of his embrace, which is a good sign.

"You didn't help."

Carlos nods guiltily. He didn't mean to embarrass Lando, he only wanted to defend him. He remembers how angry he felt on his teammate's behalf when Lando first admitted he was gay to Carlos, explaining why all the comments on social media were bothering him so much. He'd thrown his phone across the room and started crying. 

_"Don't let them get to you!" Carlos said vehemently, moving off his single bed to sit next to Lando. "What the fuck do they know about you?"_

_"That's the problem," Lando had whispered. "They _do_ know."_

_Carlos had thrown him a puzzled look. Lando lay back down on the pillow, avoiding Carlos' gaze._

_"I'm gay," he whispered. He'd never told anyone before._

"...I know I didn't help," Carlos admits. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you from the questions."

"You can make those kind of jokes and everyone will laugh it off because you're straight," Lando shakes his head. "I'm scared. I'm scared to joke about the bromance or whatever because I'm going to get hounded for it. For being gay. I'm going to get driven out."

"No," Carlos answers dismissively. "We live in 2019, not 1919."

Lando exhales, tucking his face into Carlos' chest.

"And I'm not straight, Lando. I do like guys as well. I mean, I like one guy," he clarifies, and then turns somber again. "I was serious."

The Brit shifts back to look at him, taken aback. "Wait, _what?!" _

He peers at him more closely, and there's a long pause until he quietly asks, "You're not messing around?"

"Why would I mess you around?"

"No, no, I just... I thought I would be the only one," his voice cracks with emotion.

"Lando, I bet there's hundreds of gay or bisexual guys in sport. Especially, you know, tension, emotions running high and all that shit, you get close to your teammates."

"But no one comes out, because it will destroy their career," the younger man laments.

"I don't believe that," Carlos disagrees. "I _know_ it's scary. You don't know what people will think or say. Fans that used to love us will call us puto, faggot, but then... for every one of them, we will probably get more fans. For being brave, and role models to the kids, no?"

Lando looks unconvinced.

"It doesn't even matter. The teams employ us. They're not going to kick us out because we _like men. _Imagine the backlash." He scoffs and even Lando cracks a small smile. "They are going to kick us out if we are bad drivers. So all we have to do is keep driving well and hopefully, people will come around."

Carlos has thought about it a lot. He has thought about when they get their first podium together, he first wants to drench Lando in champagne, and then he wants to kiss him. He wants to put a ring on Lando's finger, he wants to share his bed, share everything with him. It's a monumental thing to be the first openly gay driver, but it's another thing entirely when there's two of you, and you're dating each other. But he's optimistic, faithful in the fans and the sport and the fact that society has become just that bit more accepting. He's a romantic, he can't help it. Racing will always be his first love, but Lando is his second, and he doesn't want to imagine a life where he can't have both.

He curls some of Lando's hair around his fingers. They're tactile, but Carlos has longed for moments like this. 

Lando's eyes are downcast, worried, and Carlos hates seeing him so upset.

"Can I make you feel better?" he asks quietly.

Lando's gaze snaps up to meet his, calculating what he means.

"I can distract you," Carlos tells him, barely audible. 

"Distract me?"

Carlos closes the distance and presses their lips together, chaste and brief.

Lando's eyes go wide and Carlos has to smile. He is so far gone for this guy. He moves one of his hands to thumb at Lando's hipbone, promising. "Should I?" he asks in a low voice.

Lando swallows. "...Y-yeah."

Carlos goes from Lando's hip to further down, touching Lando's dick through his jeans. The Brit bites his lip to stop himself from making a noise. He tries to avert his eyes but Carlos tells him, "Look at me."

"I'll stop if you want," he promises seriously. "Any time."

"I don't want you to," Lando croaks. He shifts and unbuttons his jeans, hands shaking with anticipation, sliding them off and throwing them onto the floor. He looks hesitant. "Will you..." 

Carlos takes his own jeans off and his shirt for good measure. He's never been harder in his life, the tent in his boxers not exactly inconspicuous.

"I really, really want to, but I don't know what I'm doing," Lando flushes red, unsure where to put his hands.

"Well, I do," Carlos grins. "So don't worry."

Tentatively, he reaches over to run his fingers along the length of Lando's dick through his boxers, feeling it twitch. 

"Have you ever done this?"

"No," Lando whispers, embarrassed.

He's probably as nervous as Lando right now, determined to make this good for him. He's thought about doing this way too often, but now the moment is actually here, he can't think past the dizzying rush of emotions Lando is making him feel.

Carlos tugs Lando's boxers down and his cock springs free. He doesn't generally wax poetic about penises, but Lando's is so pretty, so perfect, straining up against his stomach, weeping precum as Carlos gently pulls on his foreskin to expose the pink head, that he feels his own dick twitch at the sight of it. 

He was going to ease them both into it, start off with a handjob and go from there, but when he lays eyes on Lando's dick all that goes out the window.

He bends down and takes the head of Lando's cock into his mouth.

"Fuck, Carlos!" Lando yelps, clapping a hand over his mouth and gathering the hair at the nape of Carlos' neck in a tight grip.

A shudder makes its way through Carlos' body, spit filling up his mouth along with Lando's cock. He relaxes his throat and lets it slide further in, digging his fingers into Lando's thighs.

"Man, you have to stop," Lando despairs. He's gripping Carlos' hair painfully right now. "Please stop."

Carlos pulls off. "What?" he asks, wiping the back of his mouth, terrified he's messed up. "Is it not good?"

"It's too good," Lando admits sheepishly, loosening his hold on Carlos' hair and stroking through it instead. "I don't want to come yet."

He invites himself onto Carlos' lap, groaning as the movement inadvertently causes a welcome friction. He kisses him, deep and passionately this time instead of the almost innocent peck from before. There's nothing innocent about this, grinding his cock against Carlos' clothed erection, letting soft whimpers spill out from where their lips are connected.

Carlos has to break it off before he goes insane. The friction is good, but it's not enough.

"Do you think Max has condoms in his bedroom?" he asks hopefully.

Lando laughs, breathless, eyes shining. "I don't know."

"I'm gonna look. Because I really-"

"Um, Carlos," Lando interrupts, uncertain. "I don't think I'm ready for..."

"For what?"

Lando looks pained. "For you to- you know." He gives a sheepish smile and mouths the words, _fuck me._

"Who said it's gonna be me?" Carlos asks incredulously. Lando stares back at him-_ please **don't** say sike right now- _opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 

"You would let me?"

"I wouldn't _let_ you," Carlos replies, rolling his eyes. "I _want_ you to. _Really_ want you to," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, fuck off," Lando cries, sniggering. "You're giving me whiplash. Don't make me laugh when I'm horny."

Carlos shrugs. "So do you want to?"

"Do I want to. _Do I want to._ Have you like, seen yourself?"

The Spaniard preens, making Lando snort. He gets off the bed and starts rooting around the drawers for some condoms or lube. There's nothing. He checks the bathroom, slamming the cupboard doors open way too hard till he finds what he's looking for. "YES!" he shouts, "Max, you dirty bastard!" 

"Not the words I wanna hear!" Lando calls, laughing.

Carlos comes back in holding a condom packet in one hand and lube in the other. "I'm ge-tting fucked to-day," he sings under his breath.

"You're turning me off," Lando complains, snickering when Carlos whacks him on the head.

He sits next to Lando, holding the condom and bottle out.

"Do you know what to do?" he asks gently. The mood suddenly goes from playful to serious, charged with this electric heat, both of them trying to stay calm and do this properly instead of rushing it, even though they're so mindlessly turned on they can barely string together a sentence.

"I think so," Lando answers cautiously. He takes the bottle of lube from Carlos, uncapping it with unsteady hands. Carlos tugs his boxers off and sits back against the headboard, spreading his legs. Lando glances up at him and his mouth falls open in surprise, his eyes dark with arousal. He tries to whistle but only air and no sound comes out, so he gives up and focuses on the task at hand.

He settles himself in front of Carlos, in between his spread legs, coats his fingers with the lube and tentatively presses a finger to Carlos' rim.

"Go on," Carlos encourages him huskily.

He pushes the finger inside, concentrating on Carlos' face to make sure he isn't hurting him.

"As sweet as you are being, cariño," Carlos says, smiling like a lovesick idiot, cupping Lando's face with one hand, "I have done this before, you don't have to worry about me." 

Lando obeys, adding another finger and pushing them in a little deeper, exhaling softly.

"Three and then I want your dick," Carlos instructs.

"Wow," Lando mumbles, going red. "You're really into it, huh."

Carlos sighs when Lando adds a third finger, stretching him a little more. He relaxes into the feeling, buzzing with anticipation, needing more. He can hear Lando's breathing accelerated and nervous, see his tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration.

"Come on," he prompts decisively. "I'm ready now."

Lando nods, trying not to seem to eager. "How do you want to... to lie?"

"First, do you know how to put a condom?"

Lando scowls. "Of course I do!"

Carlos snorts at the indignation in the Brit's expression, throwing up his hands. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just checking. Don't want you to get me pregnant," he jokes with a wink. Lando shoots him a withering look.

"I'm gonna lay on my stomach, if that's okay?"

"Yeah," Lando answers, a little breathless, fumbling to open the packet and roll the condom over his dick.

Carlos settles himself on his front, bracing his arms in front of him, resting his forehead on his forearm. Lando shuffles forward and nudges his knees apart, making his cock rub against the duvet. Carlos bites back a groan. Lando taking control, that's what he needs right now. His breathing gets heavier as he gets more anxious for it.

Lando's arms come down either side of him and when the tip of his cock lines up to touch Carlos' hole, they both curse.

"You're sure you're ready?"

_"Please,_ Lando," Carlos hisses abruptly. The casualness of it has disappeared, he feels overwhelmed with how much he needs Lando right now, how much he wants this. 

Carlos holds his breath, tensing when Lando starts to push inside him, agonisingly slow. It doesn't hurt, they did a thorough enough job with the preparation, and the lube makes the slide wet and easy, but it's still strange and uncomfortable as his body adjusts.

"Oh, my God," the Brit whispers, breathing harshly as he bottoms out. He goes still, waiting for Carlos to give the go ahead, but it takes an immense amount of effort not to come right then and there even with the condom. He bends his head to kiss between Carlos' shoulder blades.

"I'm ready, just fuck me," Carlos grits out impatiently. Deep down, he appreciates immeasurably the care Lando is taking with him, but his dick is pleading with Lando to get on with it.

"I don't think I can," Lando croaks, burying his face in the crook of Carlos' neck where it meets his shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Carlos asks, tensing, momentarily filled with dread that it's off, that Lando will leave.

"I'm just... I won't last," Lando whispers ashamedly.

"It's okay," Carlos shushes him. Relief floods him. He tilts his head back to give Lando better access to his neck and he's so, so gone. "Oh, Lando. It's okay, I don't mind. Just want to make you feel good."

Lando presses a kiss to his neck, shifting from where he is draped over Carlos' back, holding himself up by his hands.  
He pulls back and slides his dick back into Carlos' ass, a shallow, slow pace that drives him insane.

"Go all the way in," Carlos says incoherently. He can't help but push back, Lando's arms framing him either side.

"Jesus Christ," Lando whispers reverently. He pushes deeper, his thighs bracketing Carlos', and Carlos moans into the skin of his arm, muffling the sound and biting down to keep quiet.

"And faster? Can you go faster? Please."

Carlos feels himself start to slip away as Lando picks up the pace. His skin is tingling, his limbs feel heavy and he's barely conscious of the saliva leaking out of his mouth as his eyes flutter closed.  
He should be helping, but he's so content, so protected, that he can only rut his hips forward to relieve the pressure from his cock, soaking a spot on the bed with precum. Max is gonna love that.

"Is this okay?" Lando asks, breathless. His arms start to shake with the effort of holding himself up but he keeps going, dutifully fucking back inside Carlos, slick easing the way. His breath comes in short, hitching gasps like music to Carlos' ears.

"It's more than okay," Carlos admits. He comes back to himself a little then, realizing he can't just let himself drop without warning Lando first. But it's hard to pull himself out of the daze he was slipping into.  
He bucks to meet Lando's thrusts, till Lando sits back and puts his hands on Carlos' hips and starts fucking him properly. He feels so full, something about Lando's cock filling him up that makes everything feel right, that without it, he's missing something, some security.

Carlos moans, helpless. He straightens up, and Lando wraps one arm around his middle. His stomach drops, butterflies, at the feeling of being held so securely.  
"That'ssofuckinggood," he chokes out, and Lando uses his other hand to tug Carlos' head back by his hair so they can kiss, awkward and uncoordinated but blissfully perfect. It's everything he's waited for, everything he forces his mind away from when they sit too close.

"I'm going to come," Lando mumbles apologetically against his lips, wrapping both arms around Carlos' waist and fucking into him so hard that his balls slap against Carlos' ass. There's something so hot and obscene about it that Carlos starts to consider if he could come untouched right now.

"Come then," Carlos begs. "I wish... I wish you could come in my ass. I wish I could feel it."

"Fucking_ hell." _

Lando's thrusts stutter into irregularity as he comes hard, a breathy moan escaping just before he bites into Carlos' shoulder, causing him to shiver.

"Don't pull out yet," Carlos hisses. He puts a hand on his cock and jerks himself off in a firm, fast grip, desperate to finish before Lando's cock softens and slips out of his ass.

"Carlos," Lando says in wonder, trying to keep still, moving his hips incrementally with his dick still twitching. He rubs a hand over Carlos' chest, finding his nipples hard and rubbing one until Carlos comes, biting his lip, spilling over his hand and the sofa.  
As soon as he finishes, Lando pulls out, pushing Carlos gently to lie on the clean side of the bed. He takes the condom off and ties it in a knot, casting about for a bin, which he doesn't find, and goes to the bathroom for it instead.

Carlos sits there with his knees tucked up to his chest, panting. He can't think properly. He can't order his thoughts, he can't think of what he's supposed to say or do, just sitting there with his heart full to bursting of affection and gratitude that Lando took care of him properly.  
Lando pokes his head round the door and sees Carlos so out of it. He smiles and ducks back into the bathroom to grab a cloth.

"Was it really that good?" he asks, half shy, half incredulous, as he kneels in front of Carlos and wipes him clean.

Carlos wonders how to explain it. It's not like Lando had any particular sexual skill or prowess, no more or less than the average 19-year-old. It's not like his dick is huge or they did some crazy bondage or edging for 24 hours. But it was the fact that it was _him, _the sweet, dorky British boy he's been steadily falling in love with since they met. How someone so much smaller, so much slighter than him could make him feel so safe and so cared for.

"Yes," he says with a faint smile.

The grin that appears on Lando's face is so proud that it's comical.

"Do you know why it was good?"

"I have a magic dick?"

"Definitely not that."

Lando wrinkles his nose. "We'll agree to disagree there, brother."

"Fine. But do you know why?"

Carlos cups Lando's face with his hands. The smile disappears off the Brit's face, and Carlos' heart actually skips a beat when Lando looks at him, through him, youthful and weary at the same time.  
"No," Lando answers softly, eyebrows drawn in anticipation.

"It was you," Carlos tells him. He strokes his thumbs over Lando's cheekbones. "It was good because it was you."

Lando parts his lips, breathes out slowly and closes his eyes. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because... because it's not fair."

"Why?"

Lando opens his eyes, and draws back from Carlos' hold. He turns away. "I know it's stupid. I know I'm being an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Carlos says fiercely, not for the first time.

"I don't want sex," Lando says. He shakes his head, backtracking quickly. "No, fuck. I definitely want sex. But I don't want just sex."

Carlos raises his eyebrows and his teammate actually snickers.

"I want to date you," Lando whispers.  
He rubs his eyes. "Sorry. I had to make it weird, didn't I? This is why I was upset. We can never..."

Carlos decides he doesn't want to have this conversation butt naked, so he tugs his shorts back on and sits on the floor next to Lando, who still isn't looking at him.  
He pushes his teammate down by his shoulders till he's laying flat on his back on the floor, and sits on top of him.  
Lando stares up at him pleadingly. Carlos fits their mouths together, unhurried and passionate. Almost every part of him is touching Lando, his fingers tangled in Lando's hair as he licks into his mouth, tasting the salt of his tears.

"Do you see now?" Carlos asks, breaking off for air.

"See what?"

Carlos can't help it. He leans back down and kisses him some more, trying to communicate what this means to him just by the movement of his tongue against Lando's, tracing patterns over his chest.  
It doesn't work.

"I never feel so happy than when I'm with you," he confesses. "I don't want to scare you off so I won't say it yet but I've thought it for a long time."

"Say it," Lando pleads.

"We don't have to rush anything," Carlos murmurs, brushing his nose against Lando's, who grins.

"I'm not rushing. I had a crush on you since, like, forever," the younger man grumbles, looping his arms round Carlos' neck.

"I love you," Carlos whispers. Lando's mouth opens but no sound comes out.  
He props himself up a little. "Are you crying?"

"No!" Lando snaps. He moves an arm to wipe his eyes. "I'm not. I'm so happy. I never imagined you would... actually like me back."

"I do."

"Yeah," Lando laughs. "I'm starting to get that."

Carlos rolls him over so Lando is on top and settled between his thighs. No one has ever looked at him with this level of adoration in their eyes. It's overwhelming, but he knows it's reflected back in his own.  
"Think you can go again, novio?"  
He sounds a lot more composed than he feels.

"I don't know what that means," Lando says, frowning, "but I can absolutely go again."  
Carlos snakes his hand down to cup Lando's erection, smirking when he jumps.

Lando's eyes darken. "Fuck," he whines. "I love you."

Carlos' grin threatens to split his face with how happy he is. "I want to hear you say it. All the time. We don't have to come out if you don't want to yet. But someday, though, I want to call you my boyfriend. And get married. And-"

Lando kisses him fiercely. "I love you," he repeats. "I don't care. I'll fucking... I'll tweet a picture of me sucking your dick. I don't care-"

"Whoah," Carlos interrupts, dissolving into laughter. It's crazy. His dick is trying to get hard again but he's also in giddy hysterics, high on relief and affection.

Lando laughs too. "Maybe that's a bit far. But I swear. I'm tired of hiding," he says softly. "You're right. It's 2019. Someone has to be the first... the first sportsperson to... to show it's okay, it doesn't matter who you love."

*

Max comes back two hours later. All the lights are off, and the bedroom door is shut. He doesn't want to imagine what he's going to find in there, but there's no way he's sleeping on the sofa.

He tentatively opens the door. He can't help but smile at what his eyes adjust to seeing in the darkness.

Lando's head is tucked under Carlos' chin. Their arms are wrapped around each other and they're at least shirtless if not totally naked. 

"I know you're awake," Max calls. "You better change the sheets."

Carlos disentangles one arm and turns the lamp beside the bed on, smiling sheepishly back at Max.

Max feels his entire body seize up with jealousy. Jealousy that they can have this. It's a searing emotional pain that takes his breath away. He clenches his fists and counts back down from 20. 

Lando makes a noise of objection as Carlos starts to pull away and unceremoniously chucks him out of the bed. "Come on, amor. Max needs his beauty sleep."

Max wonders what he ever did to deserve this. He's happy, extremely pleased, for his two friends. Yet there's a bubbling pit of envy churning in his stomach till he can't think of anything else but the fact that he's alone. He wants... he _needs_ so badly.

He checks his phone. It's only 7. Is he really going to have to lie here all night listening to them giggling and fucking through a thin wall? He knows they can't go back because their team will be waiting to grill them on what was said in their interview, but he's tempted to just tell them he's not in the mood for happy couples.

_[From: Daniel]_

_Im so fucking bored g. Can i come over? _

Max stares at his phone screen. Is this a miracle? Is this a real life miracle? Is Daniel Jesus reincarnated? Is he a telepath?

_[To: Daniel]_

_best timing ever? u cant come over because lando n carlos are holed up here but can i come to u?_

_[From: Daniel]_

_why not? Do they not like me?_

_[To: Daniel]_

_I need to get away from them, trust me, I'll explain_

_[From: Daniel]_

_Ok come over then. 46, my parents arent home_

"Um, you don't have to worry about it now," Max announces. "I'm going to stay somewhere else."

"What?" Lando frowns, crossing his arms over his chest because he's cold. 

"I'm going to someone else's room," he explains.

_"Daniel's_ room?"

"Yes, Daniel's room," he mutters. The clapping and whooping can be heard way after he shuts the door behind him.

The Renault team apparently has a whole floor booked out. He searches for 46 and when he gets there he's only knocked once before Daniel leaps up to answer the door.

"Fuck yes, my entertainment is here," Daniel says. "Get in. Now."

Max shuffles inside, following Daniel to stand awkwardly against the kitchen wall. 

"What's the story then? Carlos and Lando in your room at the same time? That's kinky."

Max nods. "Yeah, except the kinky stuff is just between them."

Daniel grins like a Cheshire cat. "Finally..."

Max remembers what Carlos said. 

_"It's cowardly! I know I can drive. I know I can race. Who cares if I like dick as well? Who gives a shit?!"_

He doesn't really believe in soulmates, but he knows that no one is ever going to make him feel the way Daniel does. He knows he's going to hate himself if he never says anything. He can't wear a lion on his helmet if he's acting like a mouse. They've got so close to this moment, so many times, and they always bring it back to banter somehow, bring it back to the realms of close friendship and easy intimacy. He has to do this.

"Finally we have some gay representation in Formula 1," he deadpans. He's sweating. 

"I was hoping that would be us," Daniel winks, turning around to get some beers from the fridge.

Max takes the moment to breathe, in and out, in and out, before he says without a trace of humour, "Yeah. So was I."

Daniel drops the can in his hands and it rolls onto the floor with a metallic thud. There's a pause, fraught with the culmination of the tension between them, and they're just looking at each other; Max refusing to look away, Daniel searching for the glint in his eye that will tell him Max just accidentally crossed the boundary.

"Max," Daniel says carefully. "I honestly can't tell if you're joking."

Max shakes his head, and at last the weight lifts off his chest when he replies.

"No. I've never really been joking."

**Author's Note:**

> I realise my writing is ridiculously heavy-going sometimes. I wanted to write something cute and happy because believe it or not ( @ my brain) love is a real thing and Can Be Experienced. I hope people like it?!


End file.
